


Towards the sun

by SiblingCruel



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Deacury kind of?, Depression, John Needs A Hug, M/M, Slight maylor, Slow Burn, Social Issues, Suicide, everyone does, freddie needs a hug too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-13 18:06:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18036278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiblingCruel/pseuds/SiblingCruel
Summary: John doesn't notice how he slowly distance himself from the band until it's too late. He feels like a stranger with his friends and soon the depression starts to settle in.This is really angsty sorry





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm always writing depressing shit but I actually kinda like this one, it's been quite therapeutic to write as well. Read at your own risk tho, stay safe <3
> 
> (Takes place in the late 70s, this is totally made up)

2 am:

John laid down on the bed and slowly opened his weary eyes.  The bassist let his gaze land upon the tiny holes in the ceiling. He started counting them quietly. "...three, four, five. Five holes" he sighed. He stared at the ceiling. There it was again, this life sucking feeling of pointlessness. The one that makes you wonder if anything's really worth it. John always tried to distract himself from thinking. Keeping his mind completely blank. But that was nearly impossible, especially in the middle of the night. John could feel the crippling depression nagging in the back of his mind.  
A few more minutes passed.  
Then it hit with full force.

John wanted to scream, there were voices everywhere, yelling at him, telling him he should to die. Pressing a pillow against his face, John began to scream. His voice only drowned in the ocean of screaming voices.

 

3 am:

John finally managed to calm down a bit. His eyes were red from crying and his breath hitched. His throat hurt so much from screaming but he couldn't care less. Nothing would ever get better, John was convinced. This is how the rest of his life would look like. Just a constant war against himself. John longed for someone to be there, holding him close or at least telling him things would get better eventually. But no. John was utterly alone. He always was these days.

  
It all started with Freddie. John remembered the day Freddie had came to them with shining eyes and a wide smile. He had told them very enthusiastically about this new guy he met at a club a few nights before. His voice still echoed in John's mind "He's... special, I can't even describe it! You're gonna adore him!" The memory still hurt a bit, but the worst was yet to come. In a matter of days, the singer had already began spending less time with the band, and more with his new boyfriend. Brian was the only one who worried a little but Roger usually shrugged it off. "C'mon let him have his fun" Roger usually joked, wiggling his eyebrows, at which Brian always sighed with annoyance.

  
John never said anything about it. What could he say? They wouldn't understand. Every time he saw the singer with that guy, John felt as if someone stabbed him. He wondered how it felt like being looked at the way Freddie looked at that guy, completely absorbed and almost blind with affection. What confused the bassist even more was why he felt so hurt. Why did he even care? If he didn't knew better he would call it jealousy. 

Every day, John had to put on a mask not showing any emotions. Unfortunately by doing so, he distanced himself more and more from his band mates.

Next was Roger. The drummer seldom had conflicts with John, but it really got out of hand this one day at rehearsal. Roger was really on the edge, almost aggressive. He and the others had been bickering about small stuff all day, making the drummer grow more and more annoyed. After a coffee break, when going through one of John's new songs, the blonde had snapped.

"It's too slow deaky" He hissed. "No it's not" John had simply replied, not even bothering to look up from his bass. "It's too damn slow it would sound much better if we speed it up a bit" "It's supposed to be like this Rog, trust me" "No! It's shit!" And so they kept going until Roger suddenly shot up behind the drums angrily. "Fine! You can play your own fucking drums then!" He yelled and threw the drumsticks at the bassist before leaving the studio. John was a bit startled, not really knowing how to react. Brian had gave him an apologetic look before catching up with the drummer to help him calm down. That was the first time he heard it. A little voice telling him he's worthless.

After that there had been a slight tension between Roger and John that really didn't go away for some reason, making everything a little bit awkward.

Last was Brian. John soon began to notice that even the guitarist drifted away from him, though he still wasn't sure wether it really was Brian or just himself. John wasn't perhaps the most social member in queen, but not being social at all affected him more than he thought it would. He hated feeling lonely. Especially when he could hardly do anything about it, being awfully shy. Now he was lonelier than ever, feeling more like a stranger with his friends. This is where the depression really started to settle. Not really bothering him too much at first, but the more days that passed the more it took a hold of him, until finally consuming him completely.

 

4 am:

"It's my fault" John said out loud in the dark room. He caught himself waiting for an answer, for someone to tell him he was wrong, a comforting hand on his shoulder, a reassuring smile. Nothing.  
John laughed bitterly. What did he expect? Why would anyone care anyway?

"It is my fault" he said again, this time just to confirm the facts. He was the one who distanced himself from the band, not them. He was the one who never talked to them. When thinking about it, he probably just deserved this. John closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. He had to find a way to cope with this, had to stop thinking! But how? The voices kept whispering, filling up the room.

"You're nothing"

"you don't deserve friends"

"it's your own fault"

"nobody cares about you"

"you can might as well die!"

It never stopped. John crouched in the bed, curling into a little ball of sadness.

 

7 am:

John barely noticed when the first beams of sunlight found their way into his bedroom. He'd been awake all night, curled up in his bed. John slowly turned around, facing the soft morning light from his window. The bassist sat up slowly, placing his feet unsteadily on the floor and rising up on shaky legs. He felt himself oddly drawn to the window. John wasn't even aware that he was walking closer until he stood face to face to the glass. For the first time in what felt like forever, John felt peaceful, looking up to the sky, narrowing his eyes slightly. The voices had stopped. John's shaky hand reached for the handle, opening the window slowly. A breeze of fresh morning air softly caressed his skin and he let out a sigh. He could actually hear the early birds singing somewhere in the distance. It felt so inviting. John wanted to get closer, so desperately get closer to the light and further away from the dark room behind. Without hesitation he took a step towards the sun.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Brian woke up slowly, stretching his still half asleep body. Letting out a yawn as he sat up.

The guitarist always woke up around 7 am, no matter the time he fell asleep. Brian still didn't know whether to call it a curse or a blessing.

This morning was sunny, his bedroom bathing in soft sunlight. The sky hasn't been this clear for weeks Brian recalled, he couldn't help but smile. Something told him this would be a great day.

He went up to make some coffee, still not fully awake and he really needed to think clear. It felt like there was something important he'd forgot and he really disliked it. Five minutes later he sank down in a comfy chair with a smoking hot cup of coffee. He took a sip and grimaced.

Too hot.

He put the cup down on the table and went off to get some cold water. Why did he never learn from his mistakes? The guitarist has been doing the same mistake now every morning. The problem was that he always forgot to wait until the coffee got a little cooler. Or was he just too impatient? Brian was just happy his tongue hasn't fallen off already.

As he entered the kitchen he suddenly remembered what it was he felt he had forgot. The interview.

"Shit!" Brian cursed out loud.

How could he forget such a thing?! They were supposed to be interviewed live on radio today.

He drank three glasses of ice cold water before heading straight off to the phone to call his band mates, hoping at least one of them hadn't forgot about it. He started with Roger. No answer.

"Dammit Roger, pick up" Brian muttered as he tried once more. No answer, again. He decided quickly to try with the singer. Brian drummed nervously with his fingers on the wall as the signals went through.

No answer.

The guitarist let out a frustrated groan. He called Freddie about four more times before giving up. Defeated, he didn't know what to do. The interview would take place just within a few hours, they needed to prepare the answers together.

Suddenly Brian shined up again. John would probably pick up, he usually woke up early. Brian knew he wasn't the keenest on interviews but he was a part of this band too. Hell, they were family!

As the signals went through, Brian suddenly realised something. Hadn't the bassist seemed awfully distant lately? He was pulled out of his thoughts as he could hear someone pick up on the other side.

"Ah, John! Thank god, you have no idea how-" the guitarist started but was cut off by a shaky voice. An woman, middle aged, she sounded scared.

"W-who am I talking to?"

Brian was a bit taken aback, not sure what to say.

"I- um, this is Brian May, a friend of John. Is he there?"

Brian paused. When no answer came he continued nervously

"I need to speak with him, it's import-"

  
"y-you can't" the lady interrupted. There was something with the tone of her voice that made Brian's stomach turn. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

"Where's John?" He waited impatiently for the lady to answer. Brian was just about to ask again when she finally answered.

"I saw him jump" it was barely a whisper, but Brian heard it anyway.

"What do you mean?" He asked sternly, feeling his blood turning ice cold.

"I saw him- he jumped, or fell out of the window just a few minutes ago, I-I called 999 but..." She trailed off, as if she wasn't sure of how to continue.

Brian had stopped listening. He was just staring at the wall in front of him. He couldn't think clear. What did the lady say? John jumped, how?  
Then everything hit him like a bolt out of the blue.

"No" he whispered.

"I'm so so sorry, I didn't knew him well but he was my neighbour..."

The lady said quietly. The way she used the word 'was' made the guitarist wanna throw the phone on the floor and jump on it.

"Y-you mean he's-he's-" Brian stuttered but couldn't continue, feeling his eyes watering up. The lady remained silent. Brian's vision began to blur, feeling his breath starting to hitch

"No, no that's not- no" he couldn't think clear. This wasn't happening, it felt too surreal.

Why would John do that? He would never do that, would he?

Everything Brian thought he knew about the bassist suddenly shattered in a million pieces, leaving him in a dark void, scared and confused. Something that would never heal, never return. Gone forever.

Brian dropped the phone and covered his face with his hands. "Oh my god" he gasped.

John, their bassist, his friend, his family, was gone.

Could it be true?

Suddenly Brian was moving, grabbing his coat and his car keys. He left his home without a single thought of anything else than finding John, dead or alive.

As he stared the car he felt his mind going numb. It was as if something just shut him off. He had one mission, there was no room for emotions now. His body was driving on autopilot because his head were completely blank. Nothing else mattered anymore.

As he arrived at John's place he saw the area was surrounded with cars, an ambulance and a crowd of people and people with cameras. The guitarist had to push himself through the masses to reach the middle, not bothering to apologise. He had to find John.

And there he was.

As Brian got closer he could see the younger man lying in an unnatural way on the ground. When he saw the blood he suddenly felt sick.

The determination from earlier was all gone now, replaced with pure fear. He backed away, away from the horrible scene and the crowd. Feeling powerless, the guitarist decided to do the only thing he could do.

Find a way to tell the Roger and Freddie.

 

* * *

 

 

Telling Roger and Freddie, Brian found much easier than he expected, that not saying it was easy. They decided to meet up at Brian's place, the others not wanting to put him trough more after everything that happened. They cancelled the interview, naturally.

As Brian waited for the others to arrive he just sat on the sofa, his eyes glued on the wall in front of him.

He was floating in space. Everything was dark and still, not a single sound could be heard.

He wasn't Brian May guitarist in Queen anymore, he was a giant space rock, just floating around observing the stars around him. In space nothing really mattered, everything just was what it was, no need to question it.

Then he felt something pulling him down.

Gravity.

In a matter of seconds he was back on planet earth, no longer a rock, but a human. A tall one with dark curly hair and a big frown on his face. The door had knocked.

  
Brian took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself of what to come. He had to stay strong, his friends needed him. Someone had to be the calm one, the one who could take control of the situation and decide what to do.

Brian rose up, and went to open the door with determination.

Opening the door, he was greeted with Freddie's eyes, sad but full with warmth and a little confusion.

"Hello Brian" The singer said softly.

Something with Freddie's voice made the barrier Brian held up so desperately completely shatter and he burst out sobbing.

Immediately Freddie was there for support and Brian collapsed in his arms. So much with that strength. At that point they were both crying, desperately clinging onto each other, tying to find comfort.

 

* * *

 

When they finally took a seat in Brian's living room, having calmed down a bit, Freddie started carefully asking his friend, full of questions but trying his hardest to go easy on the guitarist.

"Are you sure he's... gone?"

Brian nodded slowly. He called the hospital earlier, asking for John Richard Deacon and they confirmed what he already knew. It had still felt like a shock to him though.

"W-when did it happen?" The singer asked quietly. Brian thought for a second.

"Around 7 am, I think. The lady on the phone said it happened just minutes before I called. I think it was around that time"

  
Freddie nodded and swallowed. The next question really tormented him, he wasn't sure if he had the energy to ask it. Every word he said felt heavier than the other. Freddie licked his dry lips and tried to focus.

"Why do you think he did it?"

Silence.

  
Brian didn't know what to say. He had been asking the same question somewhere deep inside this whole time, but hearing it out loud made his throat tighten.

"I don't know, I-I never thought he- he would do... it." Brian stammered, not really sure what he was saying.

No one had expected this. It felt so extreme, something that only happened to others.

Freddie shook his head, laughing bitterly.

"Why didn't we see it coming Brian?" He looked at the taller man with pain in his eyes.

"Freddie, we couldn't possibly have known-" Brian started but was cut off.

"Oh we couldn't, huh? Because we were such 'devoted' friends of his, we would have noticed right away?!" Freddie almost spat the last words.

The sudden change of tone caught the guitarist a bit of guard, making him flinch slightly. Freddie noticed this and softened slightly.

"We should have talked to him more" he sighed sadly "...or I should. I've been awful lately, to all of you" the singer lowered his gaze, he looked so miserable.

Brian was just about to answer when they heard a knock on the door.

"It's Roger"

The two men exchanged a look of worry before Brian stood up and went off.

  
When he came back he was followed by an absolute wreckage with messy blond hair and red eyes.

  
"I see you guys started the party without me" the drummer said  dryly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I continue this, I'm planning on letting it be a story where the boys trying to find out the reason why John jumped :')


	3. Chapter 3

After the drummer arrived, the three friends settled down in Brian's sofa, trying to get things straight.

"I don't believe it" Roger crossed his arms. "Deaky wouldn't kill himself, no chance!"

Freddie flinched at the words, but the singer could see how Roger was trembling slightly, struggling to hold back tears. Freddie took a shaky breath.

"Maybe we just didn't care enough to find out"

Brian shot him a look but Freddie didn't care. This would never have happened if it weren't because of them, Freddie was sure of it.

Roger turned desperately to Brian. "Are you absolutely sure he's dead?!"

The guitarist avoided looking at the blonde, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.

"...yes. I called the hospital, he was gone before they even got there" Brian muttered. Freddie knew it already, but hearing it out loud felt like being pushed down in freezing water. He must agree with Roger, he actually couldn't believe it. It just felt too unreal.

Freddie could see the drummer bit his lip. He looked so distressed, the singer forced himself not to hug him. They had to stay focused, for John.

The room was silent. No one said a word. They just slowly let the news sink, though still not really willing to accept it. A part of the whole grief process was the denial Freddie assumed, because his mind kept denying it all the time.

Finally someone broke the silence.

"We have find out why" Brian spoke quietly, still a bit lost in thoughts.

"What do you mean?" Roger asked and narrowed his eyes at the guitarist.

"We have to find out why he... did it, we owe him that at least" Brian looked up and met Rogers eyes.

"Agreed" Freddie said after a moment. Roger just kept staring at Brian.

"And h-how are we supposed to do that?! Unless you can talk to ghos-" The drummer snapped, a hint of sarcasm in his voice but Freddie cut him off.

"Roger, don't" The singer shot him a threatening look. Roger opened his mouth to argue but shut it again. Freddie shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes.

Brian had been watching the two of them, too tired to even try interrupt. He was just thankful it didn't escalate into an argument as it usually did. But this time wasn't as usual, this time it was... different.

After bickering a little bit more, the three friends decided to visit John's flat. It had just been a temporary home for the bassist, but they hoped to might find something anyway. Something that might help them understand him better.

"Fine we'll go there! But I'm driving" Roger hissed and crossed his arms.

"Deal"

 

* * *

 

The car trip couldn't have been more awkward. There was this really supressing silence around them. It was almost deafening.

The moment they arrived, the bandmates got out of the car, facing the building in front of them.

Freddie took a deep breath, preparing himself mentally. He glanced questioningly at Brian and Roger. He could see Brian nodding ever so slightly.

"Okay let's do this" Roger said. They entered the building together.

Good thing the singer had a pair of extra keys to all of his friends home, in case of emergencies.

"Fuck, it's really dusty in here!" Roger coughed as they entered John's home.

"It's like he hasn't cleaned for weeks!"

As soon as the singer's eyes got used to the darkness, his heart broke at the sight. There was piles of clothes everywhere, old newspapers and tangled cables covering the floor. Somewhere in the mess, hidden underneath a shirt, he caught a glimpse of John's bass.

Freddie suddenly felt like throwing up. He wanted to leave, now. Yet he forced himself to stay, he refused to let John down, not again. Besides, a part of him was curious to find out more about his friend, while another part of him felt like they were intruding his privacy.

"Oi! I think I've found something!" Roger shouted from the bedroom.

Immediately Freddie and Brian was next to the blonde. "What did you find Rog?" Brian asked carefully. Roger held up a small notebook.

"I think I just found Deaky's diary..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a short chapter haha, and yeah he didn't survive the fall. Sorry. I'd like to hear your opinions, or what you want to happen next, feel free to suggest. Stay safe <3


End file.
